


The Night After

by Siempie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, IM IN PAIN, Platonic Bedsharing, Platonic Cuddling, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), and they get a hug, i had a very vivid mental image, i needed to do something with it, listen, this is super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siempie/pseuds/Siempie
Summary: Tommy shuffled back into the front room to see that Tubbo had not moved an inch. He was still sitting on the edge of Tommy’s chest, staring at the floor, water dripping from his hair, his fancy suit clinging to his body, heavy with rainwater and reeking of smoke, soot and gunpowder.Tommy wasn’t sure if that scent would ever leave his nose.Or: Tommy and Tubbo need hugs and get them.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 193





	The Night After

**Author's Note:**

> listen.
> 
> listen.
> 
> let them have nice things.

The rain had not let up.

The lightning had stopped, but the rain was still pouring down in thick sheets, streaming down the sides of the dirt hole and turning the Prime Path into a small stream. Tommy knew that it would only be a matter of time before the crater that used to be L’Manburg would become a lake once again.

He peeled his soaked shirt off his back, mechanically rubbing himself dry with a towel. He was still shivering. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely because of the cold.

His emotions were a mess. His thoughts were screaming around in his skull until they became meaningless noise. He wanted to scream, to cry, to smash Dream’s skull in, to beat Technoblade into the dirt, to scream his hatred for Philza, the man he used to call his father, into his face. But he couldn’t, so he didn’t. Instead, he dried off his hair, and put on a pair of Connor’s old pajamas that were left behind after Tommy kicked him out.

Tommy shuffled back into the front room to see that Tubbo had not moved an inch. He was still sitting on the edge of a chest, staring at the floor, water dripping from his hair as his fancy suit clung to his body, heavy with rainwater and reeking of smoke, soot, gunpowder, and the disgusting, sour smell that accompanied Withers wherever they went.

Tommy wasn’t sure if that scent would ever leave his nose. 

“Hey…” Tommy muttered, sitting down next to Tubbo, noting that the towel and pair of pajamas he’d laid out for him hadn’t been touched. “You gotta dry off, big man. You’re gonna catch pneumonia and shit.”

Tubbo didn’t respond. He just kept staring at the ground, his breathing a bit funny.

That’s when Tommy noticed that the water dripping on the ground was not coming from Tubbo’s hair.

“Hey, hey don’t cry, please… You know I can’t handle that…” Tommy pleaded softly, putting his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders. He tried to ignore the gross, wet squelching noise that Tubbo’s… shoulder-ruffle-thingies made when he squeezed them, as well as the water now dripping down his arms. “Come on, Big T, at least dry off before we get all mushy and shit?”

Tubbo didn’t move for a few more seconds. Then, he sniffled, wiped at his eyes, and slowly nodded. Tommy helped him stand, keeping a gentle hand on his back as he led him into the back room to change. 

He waited outside the door as he listened to the rustling of fabric, Tubbo’s clattering teeth, and the rain outside. It was soothing, in a way. Soothing in the sense that the gentle white noise flushed out his spiraling thoughts, beat his emotions down until all he could feel was a calm, numb anger. At Dream, at Phil, at Techno. Mostly at Dream. 

Tommy was about to go check if Tubbo was okay when the door opened, and Tubbo shuffled out into the front room again, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Tommy’s old shirts. It was baggy on him, making him look even smaller. 

Before, Tubbo had looked like a man with too much weight on his shoulders. Now, he just looked like the shell-shocked, exhausted boy he was. Tears had not stopped rolling down his face, and he absent-mindedly picked at his sleeve. 

Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly. “I… can set up another bed for you? If you want?”

And then Tubbo looked up at him with those eyes, and Tommy let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah... Figured you'd wanna be clingy.” 

Tubbo crawled into Tommy’s bed, and Tommy shuffled in after him. It was a tight fit, Tubbo was awkwardly pressed up against the wall and Tommy’s ass was just about hanging over the edge, but they managed. 

Tommy held out his arms and Tubbo immediately shuffled into them, tucking his head under Tommy’s chin as Tommy pulled the blanket over them both. 

Tommy buried his nose in Tubbo’s hair, listening as his best friend, one again his best friend, fell apart, sobbing into his pajama top. 

And if Tommy did too? If he cried into Tubbo’s hair that night, if they clung to eachother like the other might disappear if they didn’t, if they both cried for everything they’d lost that day, if they cried until neither of them had tears left to give, if they fell asleep like that and woke up the next day with dry, crusty eyes and snot on their shirt and in their hair (“GROSS, Tommy!”), if they spent the entire next morning there, pressed up against eachother, just relishing in eachother’s company?

Well, nobody needed to know.


End file.
